The Bleeding Rose
by B1u3 R0s3
Summary: Title in progress. After the wedding, Christine realizes that the man she married was only a facade. Raoul is violent and drunk often. She runs to the Populaire and Erik, of course for help and acceptance. But will he take her back?
1. Things Are Never as They Appear

_**AN: I know I have not written in a LONG while…don't get used to me writing. I seem to have lost my creative spark lately, and I am EXTREMELY busy. But my friend BrokenessBear told me to read WeepingWillow2616's story (AMAZING by the way, go read Second Chance. It's on my favorites list, or just search her name), and I felt I HAD to write this story. Not based on it at all, but I re-fell in love with POTO. =]**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own **__**The Phantom of the Opera**__**, nor Christine DaAe. =[ But I DO own all the events and responses in my story. =]**_

_It has been five months since the Accident that led to the marriage between me and Raoul. My marriage was beautiful, as the marriage to a Vicomte should be. My abdomen had expanded due to my new pregnancy. All should be well, __**non**__? Well, alas, it was not. Nightly I had dreams of _him_—Erik haunts my dreams at night and my mind while I am awake. I no longer can easily tell one day from the next. And alas, my marriage's inner failure was not entirely my fault._

_It seems that Erik was correct in his first impression of Raoul. His kind and cheery appearance was just that: an appearance. When at home, especially while he was inebriated, the façade fell from his demeanor. My physical wounds prohibited my leaving from the manor for weeks on end. In public, my husband would declare that my pregnancy was rough, and it was keeping me at home. My emotional wounds will never heal, I am sure of it. But are the wounds I inflicted on my __**Fantôme**__ harsher? Daily my inner war wages, without an end in sight. If I went back it would be unseemly as I am married now. Carlotta has returned as Prima Donna after my absence. Besides, _I_ would not take me back, so why should _he_?_

* * *

"Raoul, please, stop!!!" I cried, running to hide myself and my enlarged abdomen behind the door to our bedroom.

"Why should I, _Christy_?" he sneered drunkenly, beating his fists against the door I leaned against.

The only answer I gave was the sound of tears running down my cheeks, the sniffle of my nose, and the catch of breath in my throat. I had long since given up arguing with him when he was like this. Even the babe I carried inside would not stop him. I felt bad using him/her as an excuse, but there was little else to do. Raoul's fist punched through the door and into my face.

"Haha, I gotchu now, poppet," he said as I slunk to the floor in pain. He opened the door and lifted me up by my long hair. My screams of anguish did not deter him. He dragged me to the wall where his rough hands moved to grasp my throat. My hands scrabbled uselessly for a handhold as my throat gurgled for air. "Not so brave now, are we?" he laughed raucously. As my vision grew spots, he threw me against the nearest wall. I sank down, not attempting even the slightest movement as I felt blood pouring from every pore in my body. Soon enough he would tire of torturing me and I could attend to my injuries. "What, no response, my _sweet_?" he slurred, "Well, fine. Soon enough you will talk. Until then, I'll—" with this he fell upon the bed. I immediately got up and rushed from the room, ignoring my pain.

I ran to the washroom to assess the damage. Smears of blood were _everywhere_, and I could already see bruises forming to replace the greening ones all over my body. My head and throat were the worst. As I began to wash my wounds gingerly, I felt stabbing pain between my hips. I lifted my skirt to see blood pouring down my legs. I shrieked as more came rushing out of me, along with a small, human form. I knelt on the floor to hold my stillborn child.

_That's _it_! _I thought to myself. _I have to leave. _

But another part of my brain asked _Where will you go? Your father's dead, your husband deserves to die, your servants have left you to his devices, and have you forgotten that your mother abandoned you?_

"Shut up," I told the voice.

_What?! Don't blame us, we're merely stating the obvious. What, did you think _he_ would take you back? HA!_ They laughed at me.

I hissed at them, but the maniacal laughter continued. I disposed of the body of my daughter with a silent, short funeral. I mopped the blood from the washroom floor and the worst of it from my body. The voice continued to hunt me throughout. I sighed a sigh of resignation. I went to the study and broke the glass on Raoul's liquor cabinet and pulled out the strongest substance I could find and downed a good half of the bottle and wiped my lips on my sleeve. _Wow, I'm following in his footsteps._ I sank into an armchair.

_Well he _did_ bring you to this…. _the voice said.

_Hmm…_ I mused _Apparently I'm not quite drunk enough to make them shut up yet._ As I continued to down the bottle, _he_ showed up in my head. His usually sinister face was etched with concern.

"Christine, Christine! What has he _done_ to you?!" As he reached towards me, I faded into the black.

_**AN: So, what'dja think? Yes I know Erik is not usually big on expressing emotion, but Christine's sub-conscious has romanticized his memory, and is falling in love with his memory. Now remember I won't be updating often because of my schedule, but I shall try. You might want to give up on my other stories—they're currently in the graveyard of stories-yet-to-be-finished. If you wish me to continue, please review or PM me. Or if you HATE it, review or PM me. =] Have ideas? See above instructions. Luv you all!!!!**_


	2. Joy Comes in the Morning? Says Who?

_**AN: Thanks to all of you who favorited or story-alerted my story!!! However, that does NOT help me very much….I like and need and crave reviews!!!! I'll shut up now and get to the story!!! =]**_

"Christine, Christine! What has he _done_ to you?!" As he **[Erik, in her mind] **reached towards me, I faded into the black.

* * *

_I emerged from the room in the wedding dress Erik had fashioned for me. I imagined my eyes were glazed over from his hypnotic voice, but my mind remained alert. It was currently wrestling between the two men that claimed my attention. Raoul was kind, gentle, and a wealthy Vicomte. But Erik was unique, a tortured soul who would do _anything_ for me. In time I knew I could grow to love him despite his face._

God, please help me to choose. _I prayed._ Since you have seen fit to take my earthly father from me, I pray to you for guidance.

_Erik's unmasked face appraised my appearance, and I thought I saw tears come to his eyes as he muttered something along the lines of "Finally….my angel is _mine_."_

_I slowly walked towards him, my limbs trembling with the uncertainty I held. _Come on, God, please give me a sign!

_Erik gestured for my hand as I continued forward. I watched it slowly rise before me to his own outstretched hands that held….what? I gasped as he settled the most exquisite ring I'd ever seen onto my left ring finger. He knelt and I could see he was struggling with some decision with his inner demons. Then he composed himself and kissed the hand he held. I pulled my hand away, but from shock not disgust. Erik's face crumpled in pain as he muttered angrily to himself. He got up and _swished_ his cloak behind him. I started after him and almost put my hand on his shoulder, but hesitated—who knew that that small action would do him? At first I thought Erik's kiss was my God-given sign, but then…_

_The sound of splashing and an unmanly shriek caused both Erik and I to turn towards the sound issuing from the direction of the labyrinth._

"_Hello, what's this?" he murmured, "Someone come to play?' I ran after him, but he was too much too fast, and mad __**[as in crazy, not anger]**__, for me to catch. So I stopped, panting, as Erik ran towards his labyrinth._

………………………………………_.._

"_You try my patience, make your choice!" Erik cried angrily, but I could see the fear in his eyes._

"_Don't make her lie to you to save me!" said the chained Raoul._

_What to choose? _Who_ to choose? I vacillated between the two men and the life I would lead with either choice….I loved them both, but if I could save both their lives….._

"_Goodbye, Erik, I'm sorry," I whispered as I kissed Erik on the cheek and left my newly-given ring in his hand._

"_So be it," he whispered back. And louder, "Go, both of you, before they find you here. GO!!!!!!" And he turned away in pain, releasing the lever that would free Raoul. That was the last time I saw him…_

* * *

I was slapped rudely awake by my husband. I gasped briefly at the pain, but refused to acknowledge it beyond that.

"Stop murmuring his name, you wretch!!! And WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY STUDY?!?" Raoul shouted, enunciating his words with slaps and punches across my already bruised face. Suddenly he noticed the bottle in my hand, still gripped in my tightly clenched fingers. He picked me up by my collar with both his hands and demanded, "And _WHAT EXACTLY_ are you doing with. My. Alcohol? It's _MINE_!!!" He shook me violently and finally let me slide to the floor. As my grip slackened on the bottle, he picked it up and cradled it. "My precious….She didn't hurt you too badly, did she? Hmmm? Oh, good. I'll see that she never touches you again," he said with such tenderness that it made me want to scream. But I held back and remained limp on the floor. Maybe if I pretended to be already unconscious, he would stop beating me and leave….it had worked before. "Hmmm," he murmured, jabbing me in the ribs with his boot, "Looks like we're done here. See you after work, _dear_." The last word was spat with venomous sarcasm so thick a snake would not have believed him.

Once I heard his footsteps retreat outside the door of our manor, I allowed myself to curl up into a small ball and sob. I sobbed for myself, for Erik and the life I had left behind, and for my dead daughter that, had she lived, I would have wanted to name Josephine. And that's how Kaitlynn found me, hours later.

"Oh, my dear, is he at it again?" my most trusted and favorite servant whispered, kneeling next to me. She saw what went on between my husband and me, and wished she had the power and station to change it. Alas, she could do no more than bandage my wounds. She was the only female Raoul allowed in the manor. She would not have been allowed if I did not need assistance bathing and dressing.

I could feel her hands fluttering over my body, trying to find an uninjured part of my body to pat comfortingly. I rolled out of my ball and laid my head in her lap. Kaitlynn gently ran her old, wizened hands through my hair. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we?" she asked. I nodded and let her lead me to the water closet. She cleaned the blood off my body and out of my hair, and bandaged me as best she could. Throughout my cleansing, I haltingly told her all had occurred since she had seen me last. When we were both finished, she turned me to face her. "This has _got_ to stop," she said, looking into my eyes whilst grasping my shoulders. In other circumstances this might have made me laugh, as she was a good half-foot shorter in stature than I, but I could not even manage a proper smile anymore.

"I know," I murmured, "I know. I said the same thing last night after I lost Josephine. But what can _I_ do? I'm just a woman." I laughed a grim, mirthless laugh afterwards.

"**Oui**, I know," Kaitlynn sighed, "We've been through this before. Your family's all dead, and it would be improper to return to the Populaire by yourself. And the Girys are gone…wait, are they anymore? You said they were only on vacation for six months, and they left over a month before the wedding (bad timing if you ask me, but….),"

"**Oui, oui,** of _course_! Why didn't I think of the Girys?" _Because you're an idiot, that's why._ the voices said cruelly. "Oh, so you've returned, have you?" I retorted.

"What was that, dear?" Kaitlynn asked, confused at my outburst.

"Oh, nothing, Kaitlynn," I said. She appeared confused, but mostly convinced. She let it go and continued.

"Well, I was thinking….I know how to drive a carriage, and if Monsieur Raoul has not taken it to work…." she started.

"Perfect!" I exclaimed, "And if you borrow your husband's cloak, you could pass for him, as he is quite tall and the cloak would cover you completely!'

"Only if you know where the Girys live, and if they haven't moved," Kaitlynn said, reluctant to accept the praise.

"Oh, I do!!! I know where their house is! I stayed there during the holidays, when the Populaire was devoid of dancers. And thanks so much for thinking of this idea and helping me, Kaitlynn!!!" I enveloped her in a giant hug.

"Now, none of that, now," Kaitlynn said with false gruffness. She pulled me off of her and said, "Now if you want to be at the Girys before that husband of yours gets home, we need to get you dressed and out of this house soon!"

So we changed and left the house…….

_**AN: Oooh…..cliffy!!! If this is the only way I get readers, so be it! =] Will the Girys accept Christine? Will Christine and Erik reunite? Keep reading, and I will try to keep updating!!!! I hope my bracketed notes helped, not hindered. Review saying they weren't helpful and I'll take them out. =] Review please!!!!!!!!!!!!**_

_**(BrokenessBear and WeepingWillow2616 made an appearance in this chapter!!! Go read WeepingWillow2616's story Second Chance!!!)**_


	3. A Brand New Day

_**AN: Thank you so much to all who reviewed, especially **__**ChristineDaae24**__** –without you I would've stopped writing. I've been busy—finals started today. But I feel like writing. =]**_

_**Disclaimer: Christine, Erik, and Raoul's original story does not belong to me, sadly. But this one does. =]

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_**Christine's POV**_

We pulled up outside the Giry's house midmorning. I did not see a carriage anywhere around the manor, but that did not necessarily mean that no one was home…

"Christie!" Meg cried as she rushed down her front steps in her dressing gown. She embraced me fiercely, and I winced from the pain of my injuries. I must have let out a moan of pain, for she drew me back, her hands still clasping my arms as she said, "Oh, Christie, are you all right?" Then she took in my appearance: the bruises, the paleness, the skinniness. "Oh, my goodness!" Her hand went to her mouth. "Won't you and your driver please come in?"

After she had closed the door behind us, Kaitlynn withdrew her hood. This elicited a gasp from Meg. I quickly said, "_**Non, non, non,**_ Meg, it's alright. Kaitlynn is a friend." Meg nodded as Kaitlynn looked at me nervously. "It was her idea for me to come to you after I lost the baby last night." Meg looked at me in shock.

"So the _**Fantôme**_ was right!" Meg breathed as she sank onto her divan.

Kaitlynn and I sat on a settee opposite her and began to tell her of the events that had transpired since I had seen her last. By the end of our story, all of us were in tears and speaking in weeping speech. Somehow we all managed to understand each other. _**Mme**_Giry had come downstairs in the midst of our discussion. Now both the people I loved most outside my family and Kaitlynn knew everything that had happened to me.

"So may I stay with you, Meg, Madame?" I asked.

"_**Oui, oui,**_ of course, Christine," Madame said as Meg looked up expectantly with her teary eyes. "Anything you need, anything at all that we can help with, just let us know."

My eyes filled up with fresh tears at their kindness. "Thank you, Madame. All I need now is a divorce," I said. "Now what shall I do tomorrow while you two return to the _**Populaire**_?" I asked timidly.

"Why, you must come with us, of course!" said Meg, as though I never should have thought of staying home.

I smiled and whispered my gratitude. Then a thought occurred to me: "But what about _him_?" I whispered fervently.

Madame thought for a moment, then shook her head and said, "It's no use hiding from him, child. He will know from the moment you set foot upon the premises that his _**ange**_ has returned."

* * *

_**Erik's POV**_

I awoke to the claws of a cat kneading my chest.

"Ayesha, _**allez-vous**_," I murmured. The kneading persisted. I rolled over and yanked my covers up to my chin. "I said, _go away_!" With a soft _mew_, she jumped off the bed. "Thank God," I said, and rolled over to see the time. When I saw it was after noon, I cursed and pulled the covers over my head. "I can't _believe_ I slept in! Whatever will Christi—" I broke off, opening my eyes and throwing back the covers as I realized that she had left me over five months ago and that I would never see her again. Life is no longer worth living.

_Got that right!_ The voices in my head snickered. I ignored them and reminisced on the last five months.

The moment I sent _them_ away, the police and the rest of the bloody _**Populaire**_ had come storming through my lair. I slipped through one of many hidden doors in my lair and proceeded to watch the fools. They made a mess of the place, but I didn't really care. Nothing mattered since _she_ was gone. Then I noticed my mask on one of the chairs by the lake. I cursed at my foolishness. I must have left it there when I proposed to Christine. Unnoticed by all, Giry's little girl, Meg walked over and picked it up with such reverence that I was not sure whether I should laugh or cry. I soon lost her in the melee as she walked away.

After they all had gone, I destroyed most of what was left. I left the organ alone, but tore up and burned all of my manuscripts, paintings, and compositions—anything that reminded me of _her_. I went to the roof and threw the ashes off the balcony, mourning her as if she had died. I have not written or painted anything since. I feed Ayesha, and sometimes myself, if I feel up to it. Mostly I just lie in bed all day feeling sorry for myself. But today is a brand new day.

I got up, bathed, and dressed in a puffy white shirt, black pants, my boots, my sword, my mask, and my cape. I ate breakfast and proceeded to...sit on my divan trying to persuade myself to get up. I hadn't haunted any place in months, threatened the patrons, collected my pay, or done hardly _anything_ since she left. I told myself that doing any number of those things would help me feel better. I finally persuaded myself to skulk along the passageways. I stopped at one that looked out on the grand foyer to see..._her.

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_**AN: Good? Bad? Loved it? Hated it? TELL ME! I LIVE off of reviews. =] I'd like at least ten before the next chapter. Wish me luck on my Spanish and Bible finals tomorrow! =D Luv you all.**_


	4. Back to Business

_**AN: Yay! 11 total reviews! thiswould've been up sooner, except I just got home last night. =] ****I have not seen **_**Love Never Dies**_**, so any similarities are merely coincidence. Yes, the characters are not **_**exactly**_** as they are in the original play, but I had to change them for my story—that is what a fanfiction author does. I plan to read Leroux's original book in the near future, and my characters are based off of the original play and Susan Kay's **_**Phantom **_**(read it, it is worth it).**_

_**Disclaimer: I only own how the characters act and think in my story.

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**Anne's (Madame Antoinette Giry) POV**

_When will they all SHUT UP? _I thought to myself as I sat in the meeting between Firmin, Andre, myself, and Elizabeth. I smiled as I remembered how Elizabeth came to be at the _Populaire_…

"_Oh, Anne, I am so nervous! I cannot do this! What if they don't like me?" the small blonde woman leaning on me shook with fear._

"_Elizabeth, _mon cherie_, you will be fine. Firmin and Andre will _adore_ you," I smiled as I patted her on the back. "They have searched high and low for someone to replace the old choir director. She mysteriously disappeared after the Accident," _ But Erik swore he had nothing to do with it _I thought, though I had my doubts. "And someone with your talents is sure to impress."_

"_Do you really think so?" Beth looked up at me with tear-filled, hopeful eyes._

"_I _know_ so, Beth," I smiled and hugged her as we walked through the front doors of the _Populaire_._

Anyway, Beth is the only one who does not annoy me at these weekly meetings. Firmin and Andre ramble on about money and ticket sales, Beth and I report about our respective pupils, and the Opera Ghost is mentioned towards the end, as if no one wants to broach the subject.

"Monsieur O.G. has been quite quiet since the…uh….erm…."

"Accident," I finished for Andre, inwardly laughing at his fear, and the word choice he had made: "quite quiet"….poor fool, he makes me laugh!

"Yes, thank you, Anne. Now, since he has been quiet, is it safe to assume that the _Populaire_ has finally been rid of its unwelcome patron?" Andre asked hopefully. We all shook our heads. Andre sighed and sat back down. "Well, Firmin, what do _you_ think about our 'Obedient Servant'?"

Firmin rose slowly and uncertainly. "Well, we have received no notes,"

"Thank God," interjected Andre, then at the expression on Firmin's face, looked down and said, "Sorry, Firmin. Please continue."

"As I was saying," Firmin started again, "we have received no notes,"

At that moment, our _favorite_ primadonna burst into the room, her wig askew, dress disheveled, and without makeup. "Senores, here I have a note!" She cried in her Spanish accent.

"Let me see it," Andre, Firmin, and I cried. Beth remained in her seat, a look of shock upon her pretty little face. Apparently she had not believed the stories I told her about the _Fantome_.

Carlotta crushed the letter to her ample, protruding chest, and said, "No, no! I will read it!" She cleared her throat (which Erik was constantly telling me was _horrible_ for the vocal cords), and proceeded to read.

"Carlotta,

We here at the Paris Theatre Company have seen your performances, and would like to offer you the position of primadonna. If you accept, please…"

I tuned out the rest of the letter. Carlotta, leaving, for good? It's like a dream come true! As everyone turned to stare at me, I realized that I must have voiced my thoughts aloud. _Oops_. "I mean, Carlotta, dearie, that's good! Like a dream come true!" I tried to fix my mistake with a smile. The stares left my face and returned to Carlotta as the managers of the _Populaire_ predictably attempted to persuade their primadonna to stay.

"Brat," I whispered to Beth, "I wouldn't be surprised if she made the whole thing up herself. Who's ever heard of the Paris Theatre Company anyway?"

"I have," she whispered.

"Really?" I breathed, intrigued.

"No, I just wanted to see your reaction!" Beth cried, getting up and running out of the room, for she knew I would chase her for that. She makes me feel like a child again. I peered at the trio arguing and decided they wouldn't notice or care if I left.

I ran after Elizabeth, laughing and giggling like a young chorus girl. But though I teach ballet to young girls, I no longer have the body of a young girl. As I stopped to catch my breath, I noticed that one of Erik's secret doors was open. _That can't be good,_ I thought. _Either someone got in and is now dying in one of his traps, or something is wrong with Erik._ I rushed through the door, closing it on my way. I descended into pure darkness, fearing for the worst.

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_**AN:Review, review, review! I love them, positive or negative, and I try to respond to every one. Sorry if I have not**** in the past. And remember that I ACCEPT ANONYMOUS REVIEWS! So, review! I expect at least ten more before I will post the next cha****pt****er. **_**Au revoir! =]**


	5. Reunion

_**AN: Yay! Reviews! Chapter 6 seems to have disappeared so I must work to replace it. It was so good, too! Oh, well. Read! And review! =]**_

_**Erik's POV**_

After I had seen Christine with Anne and her daughter, I headed toward the lair, not caring who saw me. Let them fear their _Fantome_. I hadn't done anything since she had left, not even for myself. Neither morphine nor alcohol had the hold it once did. Oh, I tried them at first, but nothing stopped the pain. So I gave up, and began wasting away, figuring that death was the only release from the pain. Helll couldn't be worse than where I was now. Maybe there my face wouldn't be a horror. I chuckled mirthlessly as I thought of perhaps even being scared myself of some of the demons there. God certainly has a sense of humor.

I started rowing across the lake after I had sat contemplating and wallowing for a while. Then I heard one of my doors creak closed with a sense of finality. _Christine?_ I thought. _Of course not, you fool. _She _left _you, _remember?_ The voices chorused. I clutched my head and cursed softly.

"Erik?"

Or perhaps not as softly as I thought. "Oh, it's you, Anne. What do you want?" I asked in a pained voice.

"To find out what has happened to you! I thought something was wrong, since you have left the inhabitants of the _Populaire_ unharmed and have not requested your 'allowance' recently. And then I find one of your doors OPEN?" Her voice rose sharply towards the end of her tirade. "Erik, I thought you were….._dead_." she whispered the last word.

_I wish_. I thought.

"What was that?"

Alright, so I am beginning to think that I need to differentiate between thinking and speaking a bit more.

"I'll say. Spending more time socially might help a bit, too, you know."

I gritted my teeth to prevent myself from reaching for my lasso. "'Spending time _socially_', Anne?" I laughed maniacally. "The last time I did that, people _died_. Despite what you think about me, I still wish I did not have to kill. _This_," I took off my mask, "forces me to do things no human being should have to do." _Who says you're a human being? _"Shut up!" I told them.

"Um…I didn't say anything…." Said Anne, who was shrinking away from me. I realized that she could not see my face in the darkness, but she shrank away from me nonetheless. Smart woman.

"Anne, would you like to come….with….me?" I asked tentatively, "I mean, I'm heading home, and it can't be too comfortable having a conversation with a masked man in the dark while he is standing in a boat. I have questions, as do you….I can make you some tea, if you want…." I trailed off. Anne held out her hand to allow me to help her into the boat.

_**Anne's POV**_

"So," I said, setting down my empty teacup on the table next to me in front of the fireplace in the library, "Now that we have all of each other's questions answered, what's next?" I finished with a smile.

"Next," Erik said, surprising me by taking a tart and eating it _in front of me_, "We figure out what we are going to do with Christine."

I was pleased that he seemed to have no trouble with saying her name. And that he was in a good mood. That had to be good for Christine's sake.

"She never finished her lessons," he began, "and I was certainly correct in my assumptions about that…that…." A string of profanities flowed from his misshapen lips.

I nodded. "Will you continue her lessons as before?" I asked timidly, "If you do, where shall she stay? She can no longer be a chorus girl, and she is nowhere near being ready to replace Carlotta."

"She can stay with me, in the Louis-Philippe room, if she agrees to," Erik said. "I can think of no other place at this point in time. "You can check on her, she will be kept a secret from the theatre and from Raoul, and she will receive uninterrupted instruction from me. The question remains, though, whether or not she will agree to these terms.

I was glad that Christine and I had discussed this previously. "I am sure she will be fine, Erik."

He relaxed, his shoulders lowering, and his body losing some of its previous tenseness.

"I will bring her here this very night, with her things," I said, getting up and leaving the library before he had a chance to respond. "I'll see myself out, thank you, Erik. The tea was delicious. I hope you have a second boat, because I intend on rowing myself to the other side of the lake by myself. See you soon!"

I smiled in satisfaction to hear his curses float to me across the lake as I rowed to the other side to tell Christine the good news.

_**AN: Read it? Then review! Please? Ten more? =]**_


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